


but you look so pretty (when you're breaking me)

by sunfirestrike



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Character Death, Character Development, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demon Deals, Demon Shane Madej, Demon!Shane, Emotion Study, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions are A Lot, Fake Names, Fake murders, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Graphic Violence, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Gore, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Alternating, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Reincarnated Ryan Bergara, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, these tags are a mess, unnamed demons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-03-29 19:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunfirestrike/pseuds/sunfirestrike
Summary: "So, I'm either in hell or the heaters been left on too long."or: Shane is a demon, but is really bad at it and just wants to love someone who doesn't mind horns poking them when they kiss.(Title taken from Hillside Boys by Kim Petras)





	1. you break my love machine

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the tags this could become a series if y'all like it, so comment down below if you want to read more of it! Maybe some plot suggestions to cause I don't know what the fuck I'm doing! Thanks for reading!

Heat from the grimy floor seared Shane’s back as his mind came into awareness. His face twitched as he tried to make out his surroundings without opening his eyes, his head was pounding and his body felt like it was weighed down by cement even though he couldn't feel anything on top of him.

The next thing he noticed was the smell, like burnt meat mixed with dumpster juice, that was when he narrowed it down to two places. He didn't like either. With a hefty groan, he scrunched his face up and heaved himself into a sitting position. 

“So, I’m either in hell or the heaters been left on for too long.” He shook his head and knew as soon as he opened his eyes he’d have no choice but to stop denying that they had called him back. His mission was over. 

He didn’t even get to say goodbye. Fuck.

A door swung open behind him and he whipped his head around to face the insulting noise, eye’s finally opening to prove he was right. 

“Welcome home,” the rough voice said. Shane grimaced as it echoed through his head. 

“Yeah, the worst hangover of my life is quite a welcome,” he snarked. The lesser demon acting as his guard remained stoic. Right, most of ‘em didn’t have a sense of humor that didn’t involve innocent people’s souls being sucked out of their bodies in increasingly ridiculous ways. Shane used to be like that too, that was until about, 500 years ago when he met. . .

He shook himself from his thoughts, there was no use thinking about him now. He realized the lesser demon still hadn’t spoken Shane raised his eyebrow at him with a question.

“Right, so what’s my next mission?” 

“One, Ryan Bergara,” the demon droned, entirely uninterested as he conjured up an image of the man, “he’s been getting a little too close for comfort to some of our more prominent locations and the Red Bull wants you to keep him from discovering the truth. The less humans close to the areas the more we can operate freely without the feathered fuckers interfering. Who woulda guessed the Big G liked Youtube.” The lesser demon shook his head, tossed him a file and then shut the door.

Shane sighed, he would rather clean up the flesh from the torture chambers than go back to the human world so soon, but not for the reasons most would think.

\-------------------------------------------------

Adjusting was fairly easy, Hell allowed him to rent a decently sized apartment that’s close to where he’d be going to work. Despite himself, he couldn't help but fill the home with personal touches, little trinkets from past missions, and small things he smiled at every day before work. 

His target, because that’s what he wass, not Ryan, not a person, not someone he could grow to care for, his target had taken two days off in order to recuperate after his old co-host, Brent, left. Shane knew he’d have to make a good impression in order to get that spot.

The third day of working at Buzzfeed was the day he met Ryan. He had gotten along with the rest of his deskmates pretty well, one going as far as to invite him to their end of the week bar hop. 

When Ryan walked to his desk, Shane was stunned into silence. 

No. Oh, no. He couldn’t do this. 

Ryan’s soul was a happy yellow, a yellow Shane hadn’t seen in over 500 years.

Ryan’s smile was as bright as it had been before. Shane felt like throwing up, but he managed to smile back.

“Hey, you must be my new deskmate, Shane. I’m Ryan, it’s nice to meet you, man.” Ryan’s voice was angelic to Shane’s ears, it was a little rougher around the edges than it had been before he knew him but - stop that. Stop. Don’t think. 

“Yeah, that’s me! It’s good to finally meet you, everyone here’s been hyping you up.” Shane did his best to pull off a casual smirk. He didn’t even have to lie, it was true that Ryan’s coworkers had been telling him how hard he worked on Unsolved. 

Ryan smiled bashfully, god he was being fucking _bashful_. “Oh, well, I don’t know if they should have been doing that, I’m only human after all.” Ryan shrugged. _No, you’re not,_ Shane wanted to tell him, _you are the entire fucking universe wrapped up in a smile, and god, if that doesn’t make me feel, actually feel, then I don’t know what does. You are everything, and I cannot let you go again. Never again. You broke a demon with those beautiful brown eyes and now you’re going to break me all over again, but it will be worth it._

That was what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. So, instead he settled for a: 

“Nah, man, I’ve watched a couple episodes of Unsolved, and while I don’t believe in any of that bologna, you clearly put a lot of work into it.”

Shane expected him to comment on him not believing in ghosts or what have you and he was ready for the reply when Ryan raised his eyebrow. 

“Bologna? Really? Are you on Scooby Doo?” Ryan asked in an incredulous tone. Shane couldn’t help but laugh. Conversation flowed easily between them after that and Shane knew, even if he never said it, that Ryan could feel a connection to him, too. Like they were old friends who were catching up after years apart. That was true, for the most part, except they hadn’t been friends.

When Shane came home to a suddenly empty feeling apartment, he could’t stop himself from leaning against the closed door and sobbing. He couldn’t do this again. Not to anyone, but especially not to him. 

As the sobs racked his body forward and pain sprung in his chest, that was when he decided that he was going to get away this time. He was going to run away from hell and take Ryan with him. He could not, would not, let anything hurt his happy yellow soul again. Ryan taught him how to love, Shane owed him this small favor.


	2. let me call you lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly filler, but it's fluffy and angsty filler so it's okay! (Ao3 don't be a bitch and not post this, please.)
> 
> Chapter title taken from Colors by Honest Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the fake updates! Ao3 has been janky today, but here's a real update!

The quiet crash of waves against sand was what kept Shane in a mindless twilight sleep. He was barely aware of his surroundings, only knowing the feeling of _peace_ that was overwhelming to the senses, but he loved it. It was the gentle touch of a hand laying on his cheek and it's thumb brushing against his stubble that truly woke him.

A gentle smile crossed his face. _Gentle._ A word he would have never thought would describe him, in any capacity. Hell wasn’t gentle, it was tortuous, it was nails against chalkboards and knives slicing through flesh. He wasn’t gentle. A demon who would grin as his claws ripped through skin, laugh as he heard the souls scream. He was not gentle, until him.

Shane brought his hand up and rested it against the hand on his cheek. He brought it down towards his lips and pressed a kiss to it’s palm. The owner of it let out a little laugh that had him opening his eyes. Ryan’s smile was bright, quaint, a look on his face like he could stay there forever. Shane loved that look.

“Good morning,” Ryan’s voice was soft, almost like he was afraid if he spoke to loud the world would come crashing in through his bedroom door. Shane wanted to laugh at the absurd domesticity of it all.

Instead, he reached up and pulled Ryan’s face down to his, lips meeting in a long, sweet kiss, filled with morning breath and love. So much love.

“Now it is.” Shane replied, voice equally as soft. Ryan laughed and dipped his head down, their foreheads touching.

“You are such a romantic, fool.” Ryan murmured against his lips.

“You love me for it,” Shane chuckled, not expecting the response he got.

“You’re right, I do love you for it.” He said it so casually, yet Shane could tell from the way he froze against him, he was waiting to see how Shane reacted.

Shane wanted to cry.

He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to love, to feel, to be able to look into his beautiful brown eyes. But, demons are selfish by nature. He supposed that part of him would always be there.

So, instead of being good, like Ryan would want him too, he was selfish. He pulled Ryan flush against him and buried his head into his neck. He should push him away. He really should. He couldn’t be honest with him, like he wanted to be so badly, couldn’t tell him that he was a demon, that he didn’t even know if it was possible for him to feel love. He settled for the next best thing, a half truth. Maybe that was worse. He wasn't sure.

“I-I, I have never been in love,” he nearly choked on the words, tears wetting his eyelashes, “I don’t know if what I feel for you is love.” He felt Ryan tenses above him, it made his heart clench. He pulled away from him so he could look him in the eyes. “But, I know I never want to be without you by my side.” He placed a kiss against his forehead and hoped that it was enough.

It was. Because of course it was. Because it was Ryan.

Ryan pulled away from him taking his face into his hands, Ryan gave him a watery smile that was filled with adoration. It made him sick to his stomach.

“I couldn’t ask for more.” Ryan muttered with so much love, and happiness in his voice that, god, Shane really might have thrown up. He knew that he should've stopped him, stoppped him from placing all his hopes, dreams, and love into him. Ryan was the reason he knew that he should stop him. The little voice in the back of his head told him otherwise, the part of him that still belonged to hell, told him to take all of Ryan that he can.

He leaned up and kissed Ryan’s lips before both of them can cry, he tried to give as much as he took, but he knew it would never be enough.

In a chilled LA apartment, Shane woke up in a cold sweat. He could feel the dried tear tracks make his face tight, and he wanted to scream. This was the third night in a row Shane had woken to the bitter after taste of the memory. Five hundred years ago and it still burned like acid down his throat.

Within the first week of meeting Ryan, new Ryan, Shane had wanted to simply take his hand and run until he couldn’t breath. But he didn’t. Ryan wouldn’t have understood, would have run away from him, rejected him, broke him in an entirely different way. Demons couldn’t die, but Shane was sure that would kill him.

Shane had to gain his trust, gain back the relationship they had before. Well, it wasn’t like before, they weren’t. . . together. Shane had never let Ryan call them what they were, lovers, it seemed far too innocent, holy, and happy for what he was. Ryan was sacred, he was the only lover in their relationship. It had been a year and a half since Shane started working at Buzzfeed, since he met Ryan. Since then, he had become his co-host for Unsolved and his best friend. When they went on location, Shane made sure to keep him safe and to keep any other demons from telling on him. It wasn’t too hard to keep demons away, they could sense a more powerful being from miles away, and they could sense a human that was protected by one even farther. It also helped that love scared the shit out of them.

The Goatman was the only real entity that could have given him trouble, lucky for both him and Ryan, Goatman owed him a favor. So, he let them be, sitting by in disgruntled passivity as Shane danced on his bridge to make him laugh. God, he loved his laugh. He’d do the stupidest shit to hear it, Shane wasn’t good with feelings, he didn’t understand half of his own. Laughter, Ryan’s laughter, he wanted to hear it on repeat for the rest of his life, the sound so joyous he could understand why human’s thought a fairy was created from a baby’s first little giggle.

They had to fly to a location in the morning, or rather in a few hours and Shane knew he should go back to sleep. Get some rest so he didn’t look like a zombie or act like the demon he was on the flight. But the memory of soft lips and watery eyes kept him awake.

He sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself out of bed, a shiver ran up his legs as his bare feet hit the cold floor. He stumbled to the coffee maker and put in a k-cup. With bleary eyes he pulled out a carton of eggs, and began gathering ingredients to make an omelette. He didn’t need to eat, but he enjoyed the domestic life, it made him feel human. Something he never was.

Shane could never have predicted that only 2 short days from now his simple, quaint life of making omelettes at 5 am, sipping coffee with so much sugar and cream it could be mistaken for chocolate milk, from a mug with bigfoot and the words ‘I Believe In Myself’ painted on it, would be ripped out from under his feet. Or that Ryan would be sent tumbling down with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. the mug is real. It is glorious.


	3. 5, 6, 7, 8 no more time, don't be late!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad shit happens.
> 
> Chapter Title taken from Time's Been Reckless by Marika Hackman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! But, I now have a plan and outline for this story and how it's gonna go! I think there should be an update every Sunday from now on. This chapter gave me trouble because of a small case of writers block and not knowing how to write action scenes. So, here's to hoping I can stick with this schedule!

Car rides are one of the best things in human life, Shane had decided. The atmosphere was something that couldn’t be replicated by any form of transportation out there. There was something about the proximity to people, close together but not close enough to be uncomfortable, the sights looking like they were trying to outrun the car. It was the vulnerability that came from it that Shane enjoyed the most. Knowing there would be an end to the conversation once you opened the door, it was comforting, whatever was said in the 6 foot wide space would be left there. Car rides were where most of their secrets were divulged, their insecurities, their biggest fears, their hopes and dreams. Those were Shane’s favorite rides.

This, however, was not one of those rides. 

“So, where are we headed today, Ryan?” Shane asked with a quirked brow, the dash cams already rolling.

Ryan turned his head to face him, keeping his eyes on the road. “Well, we’re doing something a little different this season, something that makes me, quite frankly, feel a lot less nervous.” He explained, mostly for the camera.

Shane squinted at him. “For some reason, I don’t like that.”

Ryan laughed, a hearty sound deep from his throat. “We’re going to Mantero Mansion! That’s all the info you’re getting outta me until we get there.” Ryan smirked at him, eyes alight with mischief. Shane would be proud if he wasn’t worried as hell.

The mansion looked innocent enough, like someone had asked for a nice little New England cottage and ordered a double. If they hadn’t been there filming something for what some consider to be a horror show, Shane would have thought it. . . Charming. But the fact that he knew something terrible had happened here gave it an air he couldn’t grasp, like all of the color had been muted and sounds made louder. 

They set up all the camera’s in the foyer, a grand staircase behind them that looked like it was straight out of the Great Gatsby. Shane supposed it might be. Light shined through the windows, making the dust particles look like glitter. If Shane didn’t know better, he’d say the place looked holy.

Then again, Shane was an idiot. 

Ryan sat across from him in a cream Queen Anne chair, the dark brown wood border a nice accent to the background. Shane sat in an exact match. Shane thought he looked absolutely darling with one of his feet resting on his knee. Once given the go ahead from TJ, Ryan started to tell Shane about the history of the mansion.

“In 1878, Jack Mantero, after his uncle left him all his money, began building the Mantero mansion, against the wishes of his wife Josephine, who, after hearing the townspeople mutter about their property being quote “holy ground” end quote. In 1883, five years after breaking ground, the house was finished. The Mantero family moved in a year later, Josephine was pregnant with their first child, Joseph Mantero-”

“Keeping with the J theme, I like it, very culty. Was this place a culty place, a culouse?” Shane cut in.

Ryan laughed. “A culouse?”

“Yeah,” Shane shrugged, “A cuouse, a cult-house.”

“No, it was not a culouse,” he wheezed, “Good guess though.”

Shane groaned and turned to look directly into the camera. “For you people at home, watching this at 3 am like a crazy person, Ryan has been keeping me in the dark about this entire trip and house. I have no idea what happened here or what’s supposedly haunting it, and it’s driving me a little mad,” he deadpanned.

Ryan cackled like a madman next to him. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” he grinned. He was no doubt enjoying annoying the shit out of Shane for once. Shane shook his head, inside he was wishing Ryan had picked any other case to do this to him.

“During her pregnancy, Josephine began to have dreams of white lights and high-pitched screams, she claimed that quote ‘These dreams I speak of give me no way to feel but fear, the very thought of them fills me with it. I can’t help but think the dreams are trying to tell me something.’ end-quote.” Ryan barely finished the sentence before Shane cut in again.

“Aliens? Ryan. . . did you take me to the sight of an alien abduction? Even you can’t believe that actually happened, can you?”

Ryan gave a him a full body laugh. “No! This is not the sight of alien abduction, that’s for True Crime!”

“Oh, of course, how could I be so idiotic?” Shane asked incredulously.

“Jack and Josephine Mantero would have two more children throughout their life here, Julia and Jack Jr. During both pregnancies, Josephine would have dreams. Her husband would deny that there was anything to worry about, even though Josephine stated that the dreams were always the same.”

“You sure the J thing wasn’t a cult? You know, like the Kardashians, everyone’s got a K name?” Shane now had a decent idea of what had happened here. He hated it. Every fiber of his being was _screaming_ to leave. Ryan snorted.

“You have a point there, but yes, I’m sure.” He shook his head with a smile and went back to explaining. “In 1901, things began to culminate. With their children out of the house, Josephine began to have the dreams again. This time, she said quote ‘The voice was telling me to do something, to say yes. After having these dreams for so long, I finally broke, I said yes.’ end quote. Jack Mantero is quoted to be saying, quote ‘It was like Josie was in a daze, she would walk about the house with stiff limbs and stare, sometimes at my office and sometimes at me. It was like she wasn’t there.’ end quote.

On June 27th, 1901, Josephine Mantero stabbed her husband to death with a fire poker.”

(“Woah, damn”)

(“I know.”)

Ryan cleared his throat. “Josephine died days later in jail. When asked why she did it, she answered, quote ‘An angel made me do it.’ end-quote. It was discovered several years later that Jack Mantero was responsible for the deaths of Jessica Hillard, Daniel Hewitt, Wilma Lillis, and Christopher Jameston. Their bodies were found in a secret room in the basement, that has since been boarded up.” Ryan finished with a sad sigh.

Shane had never wanted to run more in his life. Angels typically kept watch on the places they had taken a vessel, and if one sensed a demon on the grounds? Shane didn’t want to find out. All he could hope for was sheer luck. Luck had never been on his side.

The night went fairly normally, Ryan got scared by the house creaking, and maybe, just maybe Shane messing with him a bit too. Only once, he swore. They got through all the filming with TJ and then it was time to spend the night. Theoretically, this should be the easy part. Nothing ever really happened, at least that Ryan was aware of, during this part.

Theoretically, Shane had never had anything bad happen to him ever.

It was around 12 AM when the air started to grow warmer, Shane could feel the air _buzzing, actually buzzing_ with anticipation for the Angel’s arrival. Shane could do nothing but that he hid his presence well enough. 

Ryan, had for once gone to sleep, only asking once when Shane said he would stay up for awhile. 

“Angels are creatures of Wrath, Ryan, I wanna make sure if something happens we get it on camera.” Shane had joked, Ryan merely shook his head with a laugh. 

It was 2 AM when the voice started to fill his head, it made him clench his eyes shut tight, the sound ringing through his head.

 _“Evil One, oh Evil One, what are you doing here?_ **Leave.** ”

Shane put his hands in his hair, pulling on it, trying to rid his head of the voice. Shane prayed the Angel would be reasonable, but they rarely were. He supposed that was something Angels and Demons had in common.

 _“I can't, not without him, please, please let us be. No harm will come to the human, I swear it.”_ He thought back, thoughts desperate.

 **“Lies! You are a creature of darkness, your words have no worth in them!”** Any another time, Shane would have agreed with them, but now all he could do was tear his hair out in worry.

 _“No, no, no, please, please believe me, I mean them, please, no, I couldn't, please, please-”_ Shane heard a crash from upstairs, instantly he was on his feet, panic welling up in his chest like a dam.

Ryan heard it too, and damn him for being braver than people think he was because he was on his feet with a flashlight in his hand quicker than Shane could beg him not to go look or make up an excuse.

“Dude, you heard that right?” Ryan asked, fear evident in his voice, but he looked like he was preparing to fight. Shane would have admired the quality any other time, but now he cursed it, he hated that Ryan was so willing to put himself in danger.

“I think someone's breaking into the house,” he muttered, knowing it would do nothing to hide the lies from the Angel. The voice echoed throughout his head again.

 **“Lies! More lies! You are not capable of truth!”** Shane winced, the voice making his head throb. He could do nothing to try and stop the pain. He did his best to conceal his frantic thoughts, but he couldn't stop the tears from making his eyes shine. 

“Which means we need to leave and call the cops, ghost hunting is our job, not stopping robberies.” Shane tried to reason, it looked like it was working because Ryan was nodding his head in agreement. Ryan grabbed one of the cameras and moved toward the door of the sitting room. He stopped once he saw Shane's raised eyebrow.

“Encase we see one of the robbers, get evidence for the cops, and so BuzzFeed doesn't kill us for getting their cameras’ stolen.” He shrugged. Shane nodded, he had a point. 

Another crash came from upstairs, and with it, so did the angel’s voice in his head.

 **“I'm coming for you, Evil one.”** Shane winced and grabbed Ryan's wrist, ignoring any weird look he gave him. He pulled him from the room, toward the front room where they had filmed the opening.

They reached the room and Shane nearly screamed. Ryan did.

There, stood in the middle of the grand staircase was Josephine Mantero. Or rather, Josephine Mantero right after she stabbed her husband. Her eyes were pure white, and there seemed to be a ring of light surrounding her. She would have looked like the picture of innocence, except for the blood splattered across her face and chest. 

Shane gulped down his fear and ran toward the door, dragging Ryan with him. Josephine was on them in 2 impossibly fast seconds, and was throwing Ryan away from Shane. He landed on his foot and Shane swore he heard a distinct snap. Ryan didn't know what to do, he froze, from pain and terror and that is probably for the best. Shane did not want him getting hurt anymore than he already was. A broken foot he could recover from, a broken neck? Not so much.

That thought didn't stop the rage from building in him as he saw Ryan's face twist in pain. His head whipped around to face the Angel, Ophaim, he realized, his face contorting into a rage-filled expression.

 **“How dare you,”** it sounded like his voice, but it wasn't, it was much deeper and more distorted. It almost didn't sound real. But the rage behind it? That was a real as could be. 

He grabbed Ophaim by the throat, hurling it across the room onto one of the Queen Anne chairs, it broke and sent the Angel crashing to the ground.

Ophaim screamed and before Shane had a chance to do anymore damage to it, it grabbed one of the pieces of broken wood and rushed him, stabbing him in the stomach. Shane could barely feel the dull ache of it, he did however, feel the blood coming out of his mouth as he began to laugh. Everything he ever loved was falling apart around him, laughing was all he could do. 

He yanked the piece of wood out of his stomach with a bloodied smile. Ophaim was enraged and used it's powers to throw Shane against the wall without even touching him. He felt his head hit the wall, but it didn’t matter, this body could be wounded yes, but it could never die. 

The holy words the angel began muttering did effect him however, the ancient tongue hurting him more than any wound could. He squirmed against the invisible, vice like grip, biting down on his lip to keep from screaming. Pain forced his eyes open and his heart broke as he heard Ryan inhale sharply. His eyes were black.

The next few words ripped a scream from his throat as he struggled to turn his head toward Ryan, he knew he only had a few moments left.

“I love you, I’m so sorry.” He never felt this weak in his life, physically and emotionally. He let himself succumb to the pain, eyes closing and his head resting against the wall. He could hear Ryan screaming, but it was like it was underwater. Everything was becoming fainter and he wants so badly to reach out and grab it.

Then there was nothing. Nothing was so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	4. lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, I said Monday, not Sunday, right? Oh well, with luck, i should get the next chapter out on Saturday cause I'm spending five hours in a car!  
> (Chapter title taken from Cigarette by Marika Hackman, go listen to her, seriously, she's like Hozier but creepier and also a lesbian)

Ryan’s eyes were crying, from shock, pain, or simple sadness he wasn’t sure. The blinding light caused by who or whatever that thing was when it made Shane- It was frying to the eyes. He was sure they would have been permanently damaged had he not closed them.

After going to the hospital for his broken ankle, bruised tail bone, and shock, he had been forced to recount the tale to several, what’s the word. . . Asshole-ish police officers. He left the hospital the, was it morning? Shit, yeah it was morning. He shook his head, the sun beating down on his face making his head spin from lack of sleep.

He was in. . . Shock wasn’t the right word. Disbelief. That’s what he was in. 

He scoffed as he got into his car, that was unbelievable. Ryan, the believer, couldn’t believe. Oh, the irony. 

Shane was, is- what the fuck. Ryan didn’t know what happened. He was unsure of everything, he couldn’t even trust his own mind anymore. He swore Shane’s eyes were, were black the last time he saw him. But, then again he was also sure nothing would happen in that house. Angels, their little show didn’t matter enough for Angels, right?

But, if something else had been in that house, something that made Jack Mantero cut out the eyeballs of people, eat them, and turn their bodies into human meat puzzles, maybe that would have been enough for Angels. He was sure there was nothing in that house though, no EMF, no ghost whispers through the spirit box, only Shane messing with him. He was certain, however, that Josephine Mantero had stabbed his best friend through the stomach with a broken chair leg. He knew it was her, everything pointed to it. It was the only thing that explained her flowy, white dress, the style of her up-do, and the blood stains on her face. 

Whatever had possessed Josephine Mantero kille- hurt, Shane. 

It was a few weeks later, the night stuck on constant repeat in his head, when he began to realize how odd Shane acted that night. From his eyes flying to and from every spot in the room, his hands shaking when they held the flashlight. Dumbstruck, Ryan remembered he was the first one to fall asleep.

 _“Angels are creatures of Wrath, Ryan.”_ Shane said, like he was speaking from experience.

Something didn’t come _out_ of the house. Something came _in_ with him. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here he was again. Searing pain in his back, dried up blood under his shoes, and all. Hell really was Hell, but this time, Shane was going to fight.

It took what felt like weeks, of fighting, bleeding, running. But in a final flurry of power, screaming and rage. Shane had done it. He ran. He was free.

Well, for the most part.

With his vessel tarnished beyond belief, Shane had to hide, he felt sorry for any soul that endured half the torment he had in his fight. The demon blood was still fresh on his arms and shirt.  
His heart yearned to run to Ryan, sweep him up in his arms and just hold him, whispering promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. But Shane needed to listen to his brain. He hid his already weak energy, the fight of his existence taking it out of him. Even that didn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder.

He “checked” into the first hotel he could find, a rundown little place in the beginning of the middle of nowhere. It was easy enough to convince the desk attendant he had been there for the past few weeks, a flick of his fingers from out of sight and false memories were placed in his head. An explanation for his disappearance, for the company at least.

He took a day to relocate his place in the world, his head resting on the shitty pillow he let his eyes flutter closed. He allowed the moment to wash over him, welcoming the calm after the storm. He could have listened to the sounds around him forever, let himself simply sink into the sheets, but he had shit to do. He let the water cleanse his body of blood, the drops hitting his head seemed to knock any thought out of his head. He relished in the numbness.

 

Two and a half weeks later and Ryan had just about accepted that he would never know what happened when he heard a knock on his door. His first thought is that he ought to slap him for making him worry so much. 

His next was that Shane’s sharp gasp sounded pained and it made tears spring into his eyes as he squeezed him tight. Without warning a head was buried into his neck and he felt tears wet his shirt. Ryan pulled Shane into his apartment, choking on a sob as he saw the tears running down his stubbled face. 

“You are such an asshole,” he whimpered, pulling him back into a hug, squeezing him like his life depended on it. It might have. Shane said nothing. But his actions screamed. One hand going to the back of his head, carding his fingers through the short hair there, the other steady on the small of his back, his head buried into his shoulder. Soft cries emitted from him, some of the words were so choked up that Ryan couldn’t understand him. He did catch a string of “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have told you sooner, I should have done more, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It broke Ryan’s heart.

Before Ryan could tell him it wasn't not his fault, that whatever happened everything was going to be okay, Shane took his face into his hands, rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. The look in his eyes made Ryan’s stomach drop with the weight of the situation, and not in a good way.

“I’m going to tell you everything.” It was such a plain statement, but it meant everything. Ryan didn’t think he had ever heard Shane’s voice be so serious in his life, no trace of a smile or a glint in his eye. It was just the pure vulnerability of desperation in every breath he took.

Ryan only nodded, he had an idea of what would be revealed. His best friend who he so badly wanted to hold and never let go of was a demon. An angel attacked him. The supernatural exists, but shh don’t tell anyone.

“Okay.” Ryan led him to the couch, taking him by the hand. Neither of them said anything about it, a conversation that was likely to never happen with their amount of courage. Shane told him everything, how he’d been assigned (“Demons are assigned to people???” “Missions, Ryan, to missions.”) to keep him away from certain locations. How after meeting him for the _first_ time he couldn’t do any harm to him. (“Seriously?” “I’m a pretty shitty demon, Bud.”) How the Angel knew he was there, why it attacked him. (“No wings?” “Do not get me started.”) What he did to get back to Earth, he skipped over this, something told Ryan that it was for the best he knew as little about Hell as possible. He told him what hotel he was staying in (“Banjo Tinsley? Are you shitting me?” “Look, Bergara, I panicked, alright?”) When Shane finished, Ryan dragged him into a hug, letting his chin rest on his shoulder as he ran soothing hands up and down Shane’s back. The guilt began to creep into Shane's mind.

Okay, so, maybe, quite possibly, he didn’t tell Ryan everything, just barely, really, it’s not a lie! It just slipped his mind! That’s all, seriously, he’s got no other reason not to tell him so why not tell him? Not, not telling him for no reason just seemed stupid! Yeah, it just, he forgot, that’s all. How did you tell your best friend that you had met before, 500 years ago? How did you tell him that he broke you? How did you tell him that he was the best thing the universe made? Shane would have loved to see a handbook because he didn't think it was possible.

Yeah, he was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all need to prepare for the next chapter, cause wooo, it's a Lot. Don't forget to comment, they feed my soul!


	5. when forever was us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm trying something new with this chapter in the way I structured it, it would mean a bunch if y'all could give me some thoughts on it! Also, I literally wrote half of this with my eyes closed, like, legit, I'm typing with my eyes closed right now.
> 
> Chapter Title taken from Hard Feelings/Loveless by Lorde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would think after four years of Latin, I'd know a thing about the damned language, but nope! So all of the Latin is google translated, take it with many, many grains of salt cause Latin is a fucked up language. I know that much.

Sleep as a need was new. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, annoying yes, but not bad. There were many different kinds of tired, Shane realized soon after hiding his energy. There was exhausted, which kind of feels like you couldn’t think straight and there would be a woozy kind of sigh that would leave your lips. There was sleepy, which, in Shane’s opinion, was the best kind of tired, it was feeling warm, gooey, your head lolling against a cool car window to calm your flushed face. Then there’s just plain tired, which was what he was now, irritable, foggy, and all he wanted was his old bed to lay on, he had taken it for granted before, now all he had was a shitty motel mattress that countless amounts of people had fucked on.

Perhaps, that was why he didn’t notice the room was warmer than it was been before.

⁂ 

Two days. Two days without so much as a text from Shane and Ryan was growing worried. Since he came back, Ryan and Shane had seen very little of each other, but somehow, they were closer than ever. Ryan finally felt like he was on a level playing field with Shane, like he truly understood him as much as Shane understood him. Everything weird made so much fucking sense now. 

His phone never seemed to stop buzzing with texts from him and now, after two days of radio silence, Ryan couldn’t take it anymore. 

He had practically dragged the name of the hotel out of Shane’s mouth, and Goddammit he was going to make sure he hadn’t done anything stupid. He kept his head down as he entered the place, heart hammering at his chest. He eventually found his way to Shane’s room, with sweaty palms he dug through his pockets for the room key Shane had given him and opened the door.

His heart aches at the sight.

⁂

_“Infernum quod bonum est tibi. Semper pati, maligno positus est.” (Hell was too good for you. Forever suffer, Evil One.)_

Shane gasped awake as he felt a long nailed hand claw up his chest. As soon as his eyes adjusted he was starring up into the white eyes of Ophaim, their pupil-less gaze sent a chill down his spine. They grinned at him, teeth cold and gleeful, Shane finally understood why they had to tell Shepherds ‘do not be afraid.’

The hand had made it’s way to Shane’s chest, Ophaim gave him the horror of the corner of their mouth going up in a smirk ever so slightly. The breath left Shane’s lungs as he felt the hand past through his chest, long nails digging into his heart. Pure, blinding, light flashed in front of him, but it barely registered as the world turned cold and time seemed to slow.

That was when the real pain began.

⁂

Ryan smiled at Shane’s sleeping back. The concern ebbed away from his face as a warm rush of affection overtook him. He had been worried for nothing, that was the most relieving thing he’d every experienced in his life.

Ryan shook his head at himself for worrying and stepped into the room, he shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the chair of the small table in the room as he crossed it to get to the bed. 

The warm feeling was snatched from his chest as he reached the other side of the bed, his hands flying toward his mouth as a choked gasp was torn from his throat. Shane’s eyes stared full of fear at the ceiling, silent tears slipped out of his eyes. The only sign he was alive.

Ryan felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

⁂

Shane felt like his mouth was going to fall off from how much smiling he had been doing lately. All because of him. He laughed as Ryan grabbed his wrist, dragging him into the woods as the sun set in front of them. As far as Shane was concerned, the sun didn’t have a damn thing on Ryan’s smile.

The evening was full of laughter, a glow of pure delight emitted from the atmosphere as the sun set behind the trees. The ground became cool and their words became calm. Gentle touches of hands and eyes hidden behind lashes said more than words ever could, but Shane wanted to try. He had to be sure Ryan knew how much he meant to him. Encase he got ripped away from him, he needed to know, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

Shane sat across from Ryan, as close as he could get, his hands on his shoulders as he leaned their foreheads together. He let his thumbs move in soft comforting circles with a slight pressure to make Ryan relax against him. 

“Ryan, I. . .” Shane’s breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find the words. He’d never been good at them, that was always Ryan. Shane closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, even after so many talks, he still feared the vulnerability that came with being in a relationship. “You broke me.” 

It wasn’t the best way to phrase it and he knew it as soon as Ryan gasped and pulled away from him, hurt and confusion plain on his face, and damn him if it didn’t make him want to kiss it off him.

“What do you mean?” Ryan’s voice was filled with thinly veiled panic, that somehow he had done something wrong to upset the perfectness of their relationship.

Shane’s grip on his shoulders tightened as he struggled to explain how he felt, he hoped it wasn’t threatening. 

“I. . . I mean, that I didn’t think I could love before I met you. You broke me, changed me, reshaped my entire being into something almost worthy of being loved by someone like you.” Shane let his head droop, so much was still on his tongue but he just didn’t have the damn words. Shakespeare was fucking laughing at him.

A few moments of self-loathing later and Shane was forced to look Ryan in the eyes because Ryan was cupping the sides of his face. He pressed a kiss against his brown hair and held him tight, not saying anything till his head was in his shoulder and he had the words right.

“You broke me too, Shane. But I love you for it, you’ve made my life better, made me better. You broke me, but you filled in the gaps like gold.”

_Fool’s gold maybe_ , Shane thought to himself. He didn’t say anything, always better with actions than with words. He leaned down and captured Ryan’s lips in a gentle kiss, their lips melding together in slow, sweet, harmony. They fell against the dew covered grass, not minding the chill that ran down their spines. It was Ryan who broke this kiss, he placed Shane’s head over his heart, a relaxed smile on his face as the wet grass made his skin itch. It was perfect.

Shane allowed himself to take a breath, he felt secure with Ryan’s arm wrapped around him slowly moving his fingers across the clothed expanse of his shoulder. He moved his hand and laid it on Ryan’s upper body, drawing incomprehensible patterns on his chest with his fingers. Ryan’s eyes were closed and Shane couldn’t help but stare, it was moments like this that showed him how he truly was, sacred, something to be cherished and cradled with everything good in the world. It was moments like this that made Shane think Ryan was akin to holy, but better.

⁂

_“Ego amare videare. Mihi perniciosius est. Ego autem erat horribile dictu est. Et videns nullum punctum est aliquid in bono vitae. Deinde occurrit vobis. Et ideam habent quam multa te mutavit animum meum. Tu enim te ipsum factus est in corde meo domum. Tu titulos per viam vestram et obstinatum risus oculi vestri et tenera. Et factus es mihi melius, beatior quam ego umquam fuisse. Ego nec sine te esse non volunt in latus meum: cor meum: mihi domum, mea vita, mihi universum mi humanum.” (“I was selfish. I was destructive. I was horrid. I saw no point to anything good in life. Then I met you. You have no idea how much you have changed my mind. You have made a home for yourself in my heart. You carved your way in with your persistent smile and your tender eyes. You have made me better, happier than I have ever been. I never want to be without you by my side, My Heart, My Home, My Life, My Universe, My Human.”)_

It had been five days since Ryan found Shane. He wasn’t dead, he was in some kind of catatonic state that nothing could get him out of. No matter how much Ryan begged him to snap out of it. Ryan had barely left the hotel, only going out to get food and books from the library. He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. Not while knowing Shane was going through the worst thing in his life. Ryan supposed that maybe he had gone through worse, but the tears in his eyes disagreed with him.

Ryan lived off of coffee and worry, eyes always on his laptop or old books he had borrowed from the library that had to do with his search in finding a way to break Shane out of his own mind. It had to be the Angel, creatures of Wrath, Shane had called them, if Shane wasn’t getting his proper punishment, Ryan was sure the Angel would stop at nothing to make sure he did. Hell wasn’t an option anymore, but trapping him in his own memories was.

Shane could speak, he discovered after an hour of crying at his side. It was never to him. Always to some far off, distant memory and only in Latin. It was rare that he spoke, but when he did, Ryan always listened. 

Sometimes, the glazed over look in his eyes would become softer, like waking up to rain tapping at your windows, the words he speaks are painful in a new kind Ryan had never experience before. He records them and looks them up later, hoping they’d give him a way to fix this. They never do. They only make the pain worse. With this look in his eyes, the words are always declarations of love, although they never use the word directly, the tenderness he speaks them with couldn’t be taken any other way.

Then there are the times when his eyes are filled with silent tears, his voice, even in the dead language Ryan couldn’t understand a lick of, was choked with emotion. These hurt Ryan the most. The words he speaks were begs, pleads, and _goodbyes_. Ryan didn’t know who he was saying goodbye too, but the strangled sobs were enough to tell him that they were loved. Loved more than anything in the universe. He didn’t like the twinge that put in his stomach. Shane only ever spoke one word in English, and always by itself.

Ryan’s name.

⁂

Shane struggled to stop his trembling lips, leaning back against the headboard of their bed. The dread in the air was palpable. Others had found him, it was only a matter of time before everything was taken away from him. Before he was taken away from Ryan. What would become of Ryan after he left he wasn’t sure. But, he knew it would be painful, the most tortuous thing imaginable. 

With shaking hands, Shane began to cry. Small whimpers escaped from his throat, he buried his face in his hands to try and stop the noises. It was apparently useless, because Ryan stirred beside him, sleepy eyes full of worry. He sat up in the bed, placing a gentle hand on Shane’s forearm, trying to get his lover to take his hands away from his face.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” Ryan’s voice was so goddamned soft and sweet and filled with love he didn’t deserve that it only made Shane cry harder. 

“I love you.” Shane whispered, the gasp Ryan gave him in return cemented the idea of what he needed to do in his brain. With rushed hands, before he could change his mind, he reached over and pulled Ryan close to him, bruising his lips with a fierce kiss.

Ryan didn’t remember him in the morning.

⁂

Another strangled sob left Shane’s body, it was all too much, listening to the endless torture of his best friend. Ryan had only found one solution to breaking him out of it and even that he didn’t trust.

He pulled on his hair, elbows aching from being pressed into the table for so long. He was desperate, this was desperate, but sometimes desperation was all you had. He had already gathered all the supplies, encase he didn’t find anything else. A choked up Latin phrase left Shane. Ryan had had enough, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was a necessary evil to put an eviler punishment to an end.

With an impending sense of doom, Ryan shoved his things down his backpack, heading for the nearest crossroads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a rollercoaster, huh? Please let me know what you think!


	6. heaven was not named

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, we're finally here. My apologies for the month long wait on this update, I got stuck, then I got sick, then I was still stuck, in the end this chapter took as long as it needed to. Thank you all for going on this journey with me, I had no idea this story would mean so much to me when I first started it but it has become my favorite thing I've written. A very special thank you to Daniella, your comments have meant the world to me and kept me going when I felt like this story meant nothing. You are a dream, Daniella, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I dedicate this chapter to you. Thank you to all those that commented along the way, I can't wait to take you on another journey with my next fic already in the works! Well, enough of my emotional blabbering, on with the end!
> 
> Chapter Title taken from Abzu Soundtrack by Austin Wintory.

The sporadic static of the radio cut with the slow melodic hum of a piano made the atmosphere all the more creepier. The wooded area was already setting off his paranoia, add that with the fact that it was night and a dreary fog was settling over the land, well, it was the perfect potion to send a chill down Ryan’s spine. Every crunch of gravel beneath his tires made him think of cracking bones. The dead trees seemed to leer at him, their branches looked like shadow claws against the backdrop of towering mist, that seemed to reach for him. Every odd dip in the road forced the sickening thought of what lie underneath down his throat.

But, this was the only way.

The wind seemed to clear the trees away from him, their branches lowering in a sharp pathway, perhaps they were afraid of this place too. The crossroads came into view, everything seemed to stop growing within 20 feet of the center. Nothing natural wanted to exist there. Everything that did seemed to have become infected with the deals done here, dead looking with endless roots jutting up from the ground.

Ryan pulled the car to a halt and stayed inside, dragging deep breaths into his lungs to calm his heart rate. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest. He focused on his breathing and his grip on the steering wheel until the skin around his knuckles didn’t feel tight.

This was the only way.

The crickets dared not to interrupt the silence of the night as Ryan stepped out of the car, shovel and photo in hand. He went to the center of the crossroads, the almost freshly turned up dirt did little to provide comfort. He dug until his shovel hit a hard metal box.

With shaky hands he removed the box from the Earth and opened it. Dozens of photos were littered inside it, some brand new, some that had yellowed from age and some that looked like they had rotted away. He took a gulp of breath, the air felt like it shifted to coax him into putting the photo in. Before his anxiety could change his mind, he shoved the photo into the box and tossed it into the soil, standing quickly and covering it.

It took forever, but he waited. The forest felt like it was closing in on him, every caw of a bird and rustle of leaves made him feel like he was being watched. He probably was. Ryan would have run, any sane person would have run, but not if it was for something this important.

Ryan felt the demon’s eyes on him before he saw them, it made his heart stutter. He turned his head and saw the mist move, forming the vague shape of a man. His eyes bugged out of his head at it started to compress itself and soon a human looking demon with a car dealer’s smile stood in front of him.

The man’s grin was blinding as he spotted Ryan, taking hold of the lapels of his expensive looking suit.

“Hell-o there, Ryan Bergara, I understand you have a little predicament,” he stepped forward, leaning toward him with his teeth showing just a bit too much for his smile to be anything but intimidating, “well, I’m simply the best at fixing little predicaments like yours,” he paused, his black eyes swirled with the mist like a whirlpool, “for a _price._ ” He spoke through his smile.

Ryan thought he was going to throw up with how much his head was spinning, he closed his eyes and tried to soak in the man’s words. A price he was willing to pay.

“Yes, I have uh, a predicament.” Ryan shook his head to clear the thoughts and spinning from his mind. He stood up straighter, gaining a bit of courage, and looked the demon in the eye. He regretted it instantly, but held his ground.

“Ooo, do tell, do tell,” the demon encouraged, intrigued grin never leaving his face and hands never letting go of his suit.

Ryan’s brain seemed to run out of steam, everything crashing down around him. He wasn’t sure if it was the demon messing with his head or if it was because everything was finally, truly processing. His brain couldn’t comprehend it.

“An angel named Ophaim attacked my friend and trapped him in his memories.” He scoffed at the end, not even believing it himself. Ryan couldn’t believe, there was that irony again. 

The demon’s grin only seemed to grow, his hand came up to his chin to grab at a nonexistent beard. “Hmmmm, well, you must really love this ‘friend’ if you’re willing to sell your soul for him.” His eyebrow quirked up and before Ryan’s brain could process what was happening the demon was behind him, hands on his shoulders squeezing them softly. “Tell me, what’s his name?” he purred in Ryan’s ear.

It wasn’t politely asking, but it wasn’t an out right command either. The back of Ryan’s mind was screaming at him to step away, but the hands on his shoulders were warm and somehow his voice was oddly coaxing.

“Shane Madej,” he found himself answering without really thinking.

The demon froze.

A mirthful laugh bubbled from his throat, the sound tumbling around Ryan’s head. Ryan clenched his eyes shut, face screwing up in the process, he shook his head to try and rid it of the endless spinning being close to the demon seemed to cause. 

“Oh, oh, oh, so _that’s_ why your soul looks so familiar. Oh, this is simply rich!” The demon rubbed his hands together, Ryan remained frozen in place.

“My soul?” He questioned, “What are you talking about?”

The demons eyes lit up with a grin. “Ohh, you don’t know? You don’t know! Oh, this is amazing, you’ve given me so much power.”

Ryan’s hand gripped the side of his head, stumbling back away from the demon. 

“What is going on? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean I don’t know?” With each question his breathing became more haggard.

A small, clean smile came over the demons features, a quiet fire in his eyes. 

“Let me show you.” He stepped forward and placed his hand on Ryan’s forehead.

⁂

He opened his eyes (when did he close them?) and saw the sunlight splayed against Shane’s face. _He looks angelic,_ he thought. Wait, no. He didn’t think. That was his voice, but it wasn’t-- Was it?

He saw his hand come up to rest on Shane’s cheek. He somehow felt everything and nothing at the same time. The sensation of lips against his palm brought him out of his head, a light laugh leaving his lips without his control, and that was definitely his own laugh. 

Had he been in control of this body, his body, Ryan’s breath would have caught in his throat. Shane was looking at him like he was responsible for hanging all the stars in the sky. And. . . And Ryan could have sworn he’d seen him look at him like that before, out of the corner of his eye. To see such an intimate look on Shane’s face, it made his throat clench. And it was meant for _him_ , or at least, he was pretty sure it was meant for him. He really hoped it was for him.

“Good morning,” God, his own voice had taken on a dreamy tone so soft that the meager words sounded ethereal. Shane’s fingertips on his neck felt like hot coals in the best way possible, sending embers of warmth throughout his body. His lips are a sharp contrast to his fingers, they're cool and chapped, but _holy shit_ if they don't feel like the most perfect thing in world to Ryan. Shane’s fingers trail down his back to his hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pulls him forward. Ryan ends up with his feet hanging off the side of the bed, his upper half lying diagonally on Shane’s chest with his fingers tugging on his brown hair.

“It is now,” Oh, Shane’s voice is so soft after he pulls away. He isn't sure how this Ryan feels about it, but the Ryan watching this through his eyes feels wholly unworthy. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Shane look so. . . Innocent, his Shane always had some kind of hard wall between him and reality.

“You’re such a romantic fool.” He pressed their foreheads together and murmured the words practically against Shane's lips. 

“You love me for it.” Ryan could feel the smile as his lips moved against his, and yes he loved Shane, yes he wanted to be with him, to hold him and love him till the world ended, but this level of pure, calm, bliss was something Ryan was never capable of imagining. It was intoxicating, all he wanted to do was hold onto the moment, but the moment was fleeting and time refused to obey him.

“You’re right, I do.” The moment was gone, but time froze. Ryan felt himself tense, the hands cradling Shane’s face becoming just the tiniest bit stiffer. Ice crawled up Ryan’s spine as the stillness settled in.

 _Just say something, please, I know you care about me so much, just say you want me._ The voice in his head, his voice, but not, was desperate, but tinged with hope. Shane moved out from under him, sat up and took Ryan’s face in his hands. With these movements, the hope began to diminish.

“I-I, I have never been in love.” His voice cracks over the word and both Ryan’s hearts break. The first Ryan because he doesn't think Shane loves him. The second because he knows Shane does. “I don’t know if what I feel for you is love,” There were tears on Shane’s face and Ryan had the overwhelming urge to kiss them away. _It is. I know it is._ He heard the words in his head, even as the body goes tense with anxiety. By the time Shane was looking him in the eyes, Ryan’s body was crying and Ryan’s mind wished he could. “But, I know I never want to be without you by my side.” Ryan’s entire body deflated with the kiss pressed against his forehead, but the Ryan watching this through his eyes can barely stand it.

Everything was too much, there was too much to feel, too much love, too much pain, too much hope, too much, _too much,_ **too much.**

Ryan barely registered that he spoke before lips are on his. He’s not sure if the other Ryan notices, but he could taste the salt water on his tongue. Everything was too real to bare, Ryan had never wanted to go back to the present so badly before. He needed to escape from the intimacy of this moment he was never meant to witness and back to his world where he could hide behind a screen and not worry about feeling like this. Because it was _too_ **much.** Even if it was a good thing.

⁂

Ryan could hear everything but not move, surrounded by darkness. It was a terrible feeling he wished on no one, the world around him kept moving on without him while he was a prisoner in the void of sleepless thoughts.

Shane was crying next to him, he’d grown familiar with the man’s cries in the past few days. He could feel the bed shake. Finally, the darkness lightened and he could see through his body’s bleary eyes. Concern was evident in the body’s movements as he sat up, Ryan felt his heart clench at the sight of Shane with his head in his hands his body quivering from sobs.

He put a hand on Shane’s upper arm, trying to get him to take his hands away from his face. He did so, and Ryan’s heart broke. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and he had clearly been crying for a long time because there were dried tear tracks plain on his face in the glow of the moonlight.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” Everything in the two of them seemed to break. Ryan could barely stand to breathe the air, so sharp with the emotions coursing through the both of them. Shane fell forward into him and crushed him in his arms. Ryan really needed to get out of his own head. Ryan needed to run, but he couldn’t so he stayed for Shane.

“I love you.” Shane said the words with such a sad conviction that Ryan wanted to scream because he knew the ending that this him didn’t see coming. Shane pulled back then slammed his lips into Ryan’s, hands going into his hair and holding on for dear life.

He was desperate, so was Ryan. 

Ryan wanted to take control. Ryan wanted to be this Ryan. Ryan wanted to be here, with Shane, safe and warm and loved. Ryan never wanted to leave. Ryan wanted to leave. Ryan wanted to run for away and never look back. Ryan wanted to not be desperate for this to continue. Ryan wanted to stop being scared.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I **love** _you. _” Shane punctuated every word with a fierce kiss to his lips. Ryan was unsure what to do, it was all he ever wanted but never expected to have. He moved his hands to Shane’s hips, rubbing his thumbs over the skin there in a soft, back and forth motion, his grip tightened every time Shane’s lips met his.__

__The world around him felt heavy and the moonlight looked a lot more fuzzy than it had a few seconds ago. Shane’s hands became gentler and he could hear his sniffling returning. He let his head fall to the pillow. He brought a hand up to wipe Shane’s tears away and he let it rest on his stubbled cheek. A happy grin crossed his face as he blinked up at him with sleepy eyes._ _

__“I love you too, Big Guy.”_ _

__He heard a choked watery laugh before everything faded to black._ _

__

____

⁂

Ryan sucked in a breath of chilled night air as the feeling of his own limbs and the world around him finally came back. He coughed and sputtered at the sudden ability to breathe in and out. He moved his hands of his own accord and stared at them, clenching and unclenching his fists to make sure they were his. Wind blew past him and he was startled to feel the unmistakable tightening of his skin as the breeze cooled the tears on his face. 

“You sure you still want to sell your soul for a man like that?”

Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice from behind him, he had forgotten all about the demon even being there. He had a good question though. Ryan had a good answer too.

“Yes.” Even with all these new found emotions, or maybe not new found just finally realized, Ryan knew he didn’t want to imagine a life without Shane. Whether Shane was in love with him and he wasn’t, or he was in love with Shane and he wasn’t, if they were together or friends, Ryan wanted Shane. Ryan loved Shane. Shane loved Ryan. That was all that mattered. 

“Alright,” the demon stepped in front of him, all playful creepiness gone from him, “I’ll make you a deal. You make sure Shane Madej never returns to Hell and I’ll only take part of your soul.” His tone was serious, bordering on demanding.

Ryan saw no qualms with this so with resolute he spoke. “Deal.” That easy grin returned to the demon’s face as he rolled out a scroll, dipping his head as he offered him a fountain pen.

“Just sign on the dotted line.”

⁂

The clink of his keys on the small nightstand brought Ryan back to reality. He had been staring at Shane’s crumpled form for the past five minutes, an invisible weight on his chest as he waited. He was only asleep now, if the demon had kept his word. 

He felt like his body was weighed down with iron as he moved toward the bed. He sat on the edge of it, knees popping as he bent them. He hardly breathed as he put his hand on Shane’s shoulder, his chest felt hollow. 

The gentle touch of his hand was all it took to make Shane’s eyes snap open. He shot up, his eyes searched the room frantically and his breathing was so far passed erratic that Ryan wasn’t sure any oxygen was getting to his brain. Ryan had moved back in his startled state and finally, finally Shane noticed him.

He could see the tears springing into his eyes through the blur of the tears in his own. Shane broke, strangled, relieved, sobs tearing his throat as he pushed himself forward and into Ryan’s arms. Ryan wrapped his arms around him, tentative, unsure, but there. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to feel, to bring his emotions to the front of his mind, he stopped hiding. 

Ryan let his arms tighten around Shane, he brought his fingers up to the back of his neck to gently run his fingers through the hair there. Shane clung to him, holding onto him like he was everything. It scared him, but he loved it all the same. It took awhile, but eventually they were both cried out.

Neither of them felt like they had the right to speak, to interrupt this moment of stillness that was so greatly needed to heal whatever wounds time had caused. Ryan closed his eyes and sunk into the world around him. Everything felt entirely too real, too tense to really be them. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, to open his eyes and be back in other Ryan with other Shane. Because he could barely believe that was his Shane, _his Shane_ , god it sounded so right. Or else be back in the worst nightmare, back when Shane was frozen with his eyes open crying Latin and Ryan’s name while Ryan was powerless to help. 

Ryan made the choice to take action, to make sure the other shoe never dropped. He pulled Shane’s head out from under his chin, his face was red and tear-soaked. Everything was still to real, but it no longer felt like hard edges and harsh colors. Instead, everything felt warm and round, like a summer breeze on your face. 

He looked Shane in the eye, they were both searching for some unnamed emotion in their faces. Ryan laid a careful hand on Shane’s cheek, thumb brushing the stubble just like it had before. After several moments he found his voice, soft and genuine as he spoke.

“I love you.” It was a plain and simple fact said with all the tenderness he had. He leaned down and captured Shane’s lips with his, every movement was slow and sweet like honey as he melded their lips together. Shane responded instantly, sitting straighter and squeezing Ryan’s arm. Ryan was the one to begin and end the kiss, hands cradling Shane’s face with his eyes still closed he pressed their foreheads together, waiting for his reaction.

“I love you too.” It was in the quietest whisper, but it was there, it was real.

It was all they needed.


End file.
